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I was only dimly aware of the doorbell continuing its insistent peeling as Sean moved faster and harder in me, our lips locked together as our tongues...fenced. All my cries of mounting passion were swallowed in his mouth as he drove on and on until an orgasm ripped through me like a wild storm of bliss.Even though I was bucking and writhing beneath him my son continued his movements, I couldn't control my body any longer and lay there as he thrust and twisted and ground on top of me; his cock. We werenot equal partners, as I'd imagined while I was lording it overher. We weren't partners at all. To stay reminded of this, onweekends I would no longer call her "Darla" nor any of the many petnames I had for her, but "Miss Darla" or "ma'am," which she told mewas the only respectful way a man like me should address the womanof the house. She didn't want me feeling too familiar or intimateor casually comfortable in her presence. Especially if I neededcorrecting or chastising."Darla," I. More

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